Helena vs the Headless Hunt Committee
by darkbloodylegs
Summary: Helena Ravenclaw helps her old friend Nick out in time for Halloween.


She reached over and patted his pale hands tenderly, smiling at him. "It's going to all work out Nicholas, you'll see". He could not look in her eyes, his head tipped to look down the dimly lit hall toward the thick oaken doors. They were sitting outside one of the Hogwarts first floor conference rooms.

"You've been so kind, and I do trust you, but…" He glanced at her briefly, then back at the door, anticipation carving worry lines across his opaque face. His fingers drummed upon the bench seat, and she pressed her hand down harder until he stopped.

"They've turned me down for so many years now, I just can't bare it", his eyes drilled into the door.

"You have me now Nicholas." You've faced them all by yourself all these years, you're not alone anymore".

He was able to pull his glance away from the door now. He looked into her barely visible grey eyes. "Helena…yes…I know, and I…I truly appreciate all you have done". It's just…I want this….I need this…so much".

It was like she could see right through to his soul through his eyes. And weirdly, the soul appeared to be opening. Wait, it really was opening! But it was not his soul. Behind Nicholas, the old oaken door really _was_ opening.

A grizzled servant in an ancient dusty valet uniform floated out of the doorway. He glided over to Helena and Nicholas. "They're ready to see you now", he announced in a stern tone. Nicholas tipped his head to the servant, and Helena rose to her feet. Nicholas remained frozen to the bench, afraid to move. Helena gently tugged him by the elbow, lifting him to his feet; he was lighter than a feather. "Come now Nicholas, let's do this". She smiled her warm, tender smile.

The servant pushed out the palm of his hand in a stopping motion toward Helena. "Just the applicant, your ladyship", he grumbled rudely.

"Hardly', said Nicholas as he rose and stood firmly, head slightly cocked. "She's with me."

"Applicants only", the servant replied.

"She's my attorney, I'm allowed a representative", argued Nicholas.

The servant stopped and looked Nicholas over. Then he turned toward Helena and looked her over with a begrudging eye. Then he bowed his head. "Very well madam". He led them into the boardroom, gliding silently across the marble floor.

The room contained a long narrow antique conference table made of cherry wood. The servant motioned for them to take a seat. Toward the other end two headless men sat, an empty chair between each of them. Their heads were placed in gilded trays upon the table before them. The empty seat had another gilded tray before it. Both men were dressed in navy blue sleeveless waistcoats with puffy white shirts poking out.

"All rise for his lordship, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore". The two headless men rose to their feet, and Helena and Nicholas followed in motion.

A third, distinguished-looking gentleman entered into the room as if floating on air. He was wearing a full blue Velvet Greatcoat and fall front knee breaches. The head glanced toward Nicholas and Helena and then spoke, 'Please be seated'. As Sir Patrick said this, he reverently placed his head in the gilded tray, and took a seat.

Helena and Nicholas then took their seat. The servant announced "The Honorable Sir Nicholas de Mimsey Porpington seeks membership into the respected and honored society of the Headless Hunt. Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, residing president of the Headless Hunt, along with his counselors, will now hear your case."

"What say you", said one of the three heads seated before the three headless spirits.

"My representative, Ms. Helena Ravenclaw, will present my case if it so pleases the society", answered Nicholas.

The three heads whispered to each other for a few moments. "Very well", answered Sir Patrick. "Please proceed".

Helena rose to her considerable height. "I present to you Sir Nicholas de Mimsey Porpington, Knight of the Sitz, member emeritus of the Wizengot, distinguished defender of the Queen herself, skilled Horseman, and brave soldier in the recent events in the defeat of the usurper at Hogwarts.".She was working the room now. She had glided over to one of the counselors and he was looking up, admiring her.

Sir Patrick answered her, frowning. 'We acknowledge the honorable nature of Sir Nicholas, Ms. Ravenclaw. His heraldry and bloodline, along with his distinguished history, were never the issue with the Committee."

Nicholas had winced at the interruption.

"Very well, Sir Patrick, please let me continue," Helena replied.

Sir Patrick's head, upon the table, nodded. Helena continued. "Sir Nicholas has trained seven ghost hounds in the hunt, two of which have been borrowed by members seated here. Sir Nicholas is well trained in all matters of the hunt, both social and procedural. During his life, Nicholas was a master of both the Drag and Trail forms of Hunting, and was quite proficient in bloodhound hunting. To sum it up, I would declare Nicholas as fitting a hunter as can be found in The Headless Hunt Society." All eyes were on her, and only Sir Patrick seemed unimpressed.

The head of Sir Patrick nodded. "The Headless Hunt Society will stipulate that Sir Nicholas represents the honor necessary for entrance in The Headless Hunt Society. The Headless Hunt Society will also stipulate that Nicholas is proficient in the skills necessary for the hunt. We stipulate all these things. But my dear lady, with all due respect, those are not the issues. The real issue is this: Is Sir Nicholas _truly _headless?"

Nicholas was looking crestfallen. Helena touched him lightly on the shoulder, and he managed a brief, strained smile.

"Very well, most distinguished Horsemen, please let me continue. One sinew and a flap of skin. Think about that, gentlemen. One sinew. One flap of skin. Nerves allow the passage of feelings and senses between the body and the head, but no nerves survived the onslaught of that dull axe. Spine? Of bone, there can be no doubt…spine severed and divided between torso and head."

She was on the other side of the room, the counselors gaze directed from their gilded trays upon the table fixed intently upon her. "Had spine survived, intact, I would understand the argument against the most kind, most honorable Sir Nicholas. But no, spine separation is clear and evident," she nodded toward Sir Nicholas. He reached up, lifting and twisting his head, displaying the separation for all to view.

"As you can see, neither artery nor vein survived the onslaught of that executioners deadly axe", continue Helena. "Bone, spine, vein, artery, nerve; none survive but this thin layer of skin and sinew. But for those small tokens of connection, Nicholas would be denied the company of the Headless Hunt?"

"Poppycock!" interrupted Sir Patrick, "either he is headless or he is not. The sinew only serves to provide hard evidence that he, Sir Nicholas…is _**not**_ headless."

"I beg to differ, most Honorable Sir Patrick. Sinew and skin, is everything and nothing. Is a bald man hairy, whom has a single hair upon his head? Does a toothless man have a model's smile, ere he has a single rotten tooth? Does a wand, broken but for a sliver of core, call itself whole and perform magic? Nay, I say, the hair upon the head does not make a man well quaffed, nor does the sinew make the Headless man have a head."

"Well argued, Ms. Ravenclaw", Sir Patrick smiled. "But I'm still not convinced. Would that you would have more evidence, this meeting is adjourned."

"Evidence, Sir Patrick? What evidence would open a mind closed and locked like the doors of Azkaban as witnessed here?" Helena looked over toward Sir Nicholas, he appeared defeated, and he would not even look up at her. A dry tear travelled down his transparent cheek.

"Ahh…but what more evidence could I provide that would be better than a document written from your own hand, Sir Patrick?" asked Helena with a knowing smile.

"Codswallup, Ms. Ravenclaw, I know of no such document".

"I present to your distinguished committee the coroner's report regarding the death of Sir Nicholas de Mimsey Porpinton. Sir Patrick, can you read for me the name of said coroner?"

"Ahh….err, Sir Nicholas de Mimsey Porpington, Chief Coroner, County of Kent".

"You signed his Coroner's report Sir Nicholas?"

"I did. I was chief coroner at that time. One of the many tasks the Queen has asked me to perform. My reputation was well known in all the land."

"Undoubtedly," Helena continued. "Can you read for this committee the cause of death?"

"Certainly," replied Sir Patrick. He did not sound so sure at all. "Cause of Death…decapitation. Err…yes, but…" the counselors and Sir Nicholas were staring at him, transfixed.

Helena gently interrupted. "Decapitation, Sir Patrick? Not 'Partial Decapitation', or 'Injury to head', but actual _decapitation_?"

"Partial decapitation would not have sounded final, and the injury was to neck not head, Ms. Ravenclaw. The word I had chosen for cause of death was 'decapitation'".

"I submit to the committee the words of Sir Patrick himself", declared Helena, smiling at Sir Patrick and his counselors. "I submit to the committee by the very words Sir Patrick wrote himself, that Sir Nicholas as documented decapitated, and meeting all other entrance requirements as stipulated by the committee, is worthy of entry in the Headless Hunt Society". "I humbly rest my case, and beg the committee to consider these arguments."

Sir Patrick looked upon her, and nodded. "Sir Nicholas, Ms. Ravenclaw, please give us a few minutes in private".

Helena helped Sir Nicholas to his feet. He seemed hopeful, and amazed, but he walked tentatively out the door with Helena at his elbow. They took a seat upon the same bench as earlier. They said nothing for a long time. Helena kept patting Nicholas' transparent hand.

After some time, the servant came out, and handed Sir Nicholas a parchment scroll, sealed with the official wax seal of 'The Headless Hunt Society'.

Sir Nicholas looked toward Helena, and she nodded. He broke the seal, slowly, respectfully. He handed the parchment to Helena. "I can't do it Helena, I just can't".

Helena unrolled the scroll and read silently. She turned to Sir Nicholas, and kissed him upon the forehead. "Welcome to The Headless Hunt Society, my darling".

His face turned to joy. He read and reread the document. He reached over and hugged Helena. His happiness was complete. "I've just got to tell 'em, Helena. Do you mind?"

"Please do Nicholas, please do," Helena answered. With whoops of delight and great shout of jubilee Nicholas floated off down the aisle.

"Peeves, I made it, I made it, and I'm in! Bloody Baron, Bloody Baron…I'm in, I'm _in_! Myrtle, I've made…we've made…Helena was able to…I'm in the Bloody Headless Hunt…!"

Helena laughed as she heard the reverberating shouts throughout the castle. A warm feeling came over her, full and content.

A stairway in the corridor lit up; it was bright and somewhat foggy. She rose and stepped forward toward the stairway. She started ascending, step by step. It was long and in the distance, through the fog, she could see a curtain. Behind the curtain was a bright light, and Helena continued to ascend, purposefully. The shadow of a tall familiar figure appeared behind the curtain as Helena ascended. A slim hand reached from the curtain, and Helena grasped onto it for the last few steps.

The curtain parted, and Helena, led by the hand gingerly entered though the curtain.

"Helena," a lyrical voice cried out, "I'm so very proud of you".

"Mother!" replied Helena with sincerity.

In the distance hallways, both visages could hear the clomping of a horse in a faraway Hogwarts Hallway. This was followed by a great shout in the booming voice of Sir Nicholas…"Tallyho!" Helena and her mother disappeared through the veil, smiling contentedly.

_fin_


End file.
